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It was golf’s Boston Marathon. And it was excruciating.

First it was Scottie Scheffler who made a move, birdying four of his first six holes in Sunday’s final round at The Country Club. But Scheffler faded in his attempt to win his second major championship of the year.

Then the day became a painful and familiar rewind for Will Zalatoris, who now has three “silver medals” in majors, and six top-ten finishes in nine major starts. Z has the game. But he has no cigars. And he has become the sport’s busiest bridesmaid.

Zalatoris was inches from a playoff. It might as well have been a mile. For Will, Sunday proved not to be “someday,” as he had hoped.

So finally it was Matt Fitzpatrick who survived “Heartbreak Hill” with a gutsy finishing kick. Fitz’s pressure-packed second shot out of a fairway bunker to within 18 feet on the Open’s 72nd hole was time capsule stuff.

It was the 27-year-old Englishman’s joy and gratitude for others that we will remember. At the Marathon, Fitzpatrick went the distance.

LIV Tour Commissioner Greg Norman wants his rogue players included in the Official World Golf Rankings. They’re “rank,” all right…

Man, that was a quick trip home, Longhorns. You didn’t even have enough time to unpack and see the sights. You were cut into Omaha Steaks.

We have officially entered the NFL’s Annual “Dead Zone.” There won’t be much happening until training camps open. Unless your name is Deshaun Watson. Or Baker Mayfield.

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Paul's Bio

I clearly have the attention span of your median fruit fly.Look! Airplane!

Sorry. I’m back.

It’s both a curse and a blessing. I’ve never bought this stuff about, “He who dies with the most toys wins.” But I do think that a wide range of life experiences helps us grow as people, and helps us better relate to other people. I’ve been fortunate. And I am beyond grateful.

I show up on time. I go like hell. I’m a good listener. I hold myself accountable. I own my mistakes. And I have a natural and an insatiable curiosity. I’m never afraid to say, “I don’t know,” when I don’t. But then I try to find out.

The flip side is I’m a lousy ballroom dancer and my clothes sometimes fit me funny.

Stuff matters to me. I care. But while I take that stuff seriously, I try hard to never take myself seriously. As a result, I have sometimes been told, “Paul, it’s hard to tell when you’re serious and when you’re just having some fun. Which is it? Serious or fun?”

My answer is “yes.” But I think that is a legitimate criticism. I promise I’m going to work on that.

This has been the quickest and strangest half-century I’ve ever experienced. During that period, I’ve been afforded amazing opportunities in news and sports journalism across all platforms. I have taught wonderful students at the high school and collegiate level. Always, I learned more from them than they did from me. I’ve been a high school administrator. I spent ten seasons as a high school varsity football coach. I’ve been an advertising executive. I’ve hosted nationally syndicated television entertainment shows. In maybe the biggest honor I ever received, I was selected by NASA to be “Chet The Astronaut” for the “Land The Shuttle” simulator at Space Center Houston. (All I can say there, is “Do as I say, not as I do.” I put that thing in the Everglades more often than not.) Most recently, I just wrapped up a decade as a television news director, during which time our teams distinguished themselves in holding the powerful accountable, achieving both critical and ratings success.

What does all that mean? It means I am profoundly grateful. It also means I’m ready for “next.” So here we are. Radically Rational. It’s an idea I woke up with in 2017. I scribbled “Radically Rational” on a piece of notebook paper and used a magnet to stick it on our refrigerator. I saw it every day, and it just would not leave me alone.

I am second in charge at Radically Rational, LLC. My wife, Jo (also known as BB), is the president. Clearly, I have failed in my attempt to sleep my way to the top of this organization.

I hope you will learn that I’m loyal as a Labrador. But I will admit that this doggie can bite every now and then. My promise to you? I will show up on time. I will go like hell. I will listen to you earnestly and attentively. I will hold myself accountable. I will never be the least bit hesitant to say, “I don’t know,” when I don’t.

But then I’ll try to find out. Let’s do it.